My Favorite Letters
by GrandCapacity
Summary: Quinn held the very downfall to Rachel Berry in her hands. It was folded over, ripped up, crinkled and ready to be delivered. Even if the love letter wasn't written in her own words, she still meant every single word. AU. ONE-SHOT.


**A/N Hi all! I'm back with another Faberry One Shot! I wasnt' going to post it because...well... the fandom has been a bit dry lately. So hopefully this will help all those old Faberry fans (like myself) get back on our feet once again!**

 **Thanks for the view! Review, or don't, whateva.**

* * *

My Favorite Letters 

* * *

It was perfect, simply genius, really. Quinn Fabray was impressed, for once, with Puck, who leaned against the piano suddenly, sending a long loud wail of unattractive noises to spread throughout the choir room. She snapped her gaze towards him, and watched as he sloppily tried to regain his posture, but ended up with a weird uncomfortable grin.

And just as fast as it came, it was gone. Her sudden attraction for Noah Puckerman had disappeared completely.

But what she held in her hands was _certainly_ attractive enough. It was gold. No, even better, it was _bedazzled_ with crystals and jewels. It made Quinn grin. Made her snicker and lick her lips in absolute delight, as if she had just won the lottery, or ordered the biggest, juiciest sandwich in all of Lima, Ohio and was about to devour the whole thing.

And Puck watched, closing the piano down, as Quinn paced the room back and forth, holding the paper stretched out before her. It was probably her 5th time re-reading it. And she found out, the more she read, the more she loved.

"I'm guessing you like it?" He smirked, brushing his mohawk back with a firm hand.

Puck suddenly felt incredibly proud of himself. It was hard to amuse Quinn, let alone make her smile like _that_ \- all teeth and all happiness - a true Fabray grin, that almost, if you look long enough, sends a trail of absolute ecstasy shooting down your spine. She looked childish almost, not so mature, not so vicious or indifferent. She looked _normal._

"What makes you say that?" She responds, turning her head slightly towards the boy.

"Well-," he clears his throat strongly, "It's hard to make you smile like that."

She almost blushed _. Almost_. Instead Quinn straightened herself up and glared, "I wasn't smiling."

"You were." He smugly replied, sitting on the piano bench carefully, eyes never leaving her lips. "And who would have thought, the very thing to make Quinn Fabray smile has something to do with a special little Jew babe."

She grimaced. The paper feeling a bit dirty in her hands, she flicked it towards him and smoothed her ponytail back with a firm grip. She watched, certainly amused, as Puck tried to catch the paper in mid air but missed.

"I wasn't smiling." She repeated.

"Whatever," Puck mumbled. He picked the letter up off the floor and skimmed it. "So it's good right? Full proof?"

She nodded, "I have to admit Puck. It's good."

"I know it's good."

They both don't waste time. They know what they're in for. They know why they signed up for this. Both teens locked eyes begrudgingly, and without a single beat Puck opened his mouth.

"Now, for our little agree-"

"Save it _Puckerman_." Quinn growled, "You're not getting _your_ end of the deal, until I get _my_ end of the deal."

"You have your end of the deal," He jabbed towards the paper, now a bit crumpled in his hand. "You told me to write the letter so I wrote the letter."

She noticed the little rip forming on the paper and widened her eyes, "Would you-," she flicked it from his grip, "Be _careful_ with it!"

"I'm the one who made it. I can do whatever _I_ want with it!"

"But I'm the one who asked for it. Therefore it's now _mine!"_

They both ceased.

"Fine." He gave in, crossing his arms and leaning against the piano again, this time no noise echoed, except for the clicking of the clock over their heads. "Let's get this stupid thing over with. And then I get what I want." He broke out into a smirk.

"Whatever." She muttered, "Let's go find Santana and Brittney first."

Puck picked himself up, only to stop halfway through the door. He eyed Quinn carefully, watching her read the letter once more before looking up and following him quickly. They walk for about ten steps in silence, their heels clicking in McKinley High's halls. Both knowing the paper in Quinn's hands could possibly be the start of the biggest heist in recorded history.

"Why do we need Santana and Brittney?" Puck finally questioned, "I thought this was only just you and me."

"This is the unholy trinity sort of affair. Besides, they're both probably doing something inappropriate so we should break it up before-"

Puck grinned, "Your right let's go find them."

Quinn watched him pick up his pace. "Don't think you're going to catch them doing anything!" She called out, stomping behind him before mumbling to herself, "Usually _that's my job."_

* * *

"This is genius." Santana mumbled, pulling her, usually mocking glance now full of actual interest and sincerity, up. "Britts what do you think?"

The girl chomped loudly on her crackers, pulling close to the girl beside her to read the paper in her hands. "I think Rachel will love this. She loves old fashion-y stuff, like letters, and Two-seater bikes and argyle."

Santana nods slightly, "If it's Brittney proofed, than I'm totally in."

Quinn and Puck grinned together, casting glances towards each other, before pulling neutral expressions.

"Who came up with this? It's absolute gold," Santana muttered, "I mean, Manhands wont see it coming, _at all_." She turned around in her seat, watching with a curious gaze, as the very girl she was searching for passed by their table and went to sit with the rest of the glee clubbers. "Speak of the Devil." She practically growled out.

"Don't be too obvious S," Quinn said calmly, folding her hands before her, "It has to hit her without any sort of assumptions."

"Yeah and we all know how much Rachel knows about stuff," Brittney muttered, spitting some crackers on the table as she does so. While Puck and Quinn find this absolutely disgusting, Santana just looks on with absolute love, pulling a strand of blond behind Brittney's hair. "Like remember that time Rachel caught you staring at her Q?"

The blonde's expression doesn't change. She has this sort of calm and almost peaceful look upon her face. But the tightness of her hands gripping together increases significantly, and everyone gives little glances at her fingers that were now white with pressure. She smiled. "No I don't remember that, Brittney."

"You're joking right?" Santana chuckled, casting a quick glance at Rachel before eyeing the girl before her, "She called you out in the middle of glee."

"Santana-"

"Is that why you hate when we all look at her?" Puck muttered, bumping Quinn's shoulder slightly, which only made her grimace more.

"First of all, I wasn't _staring_ at Rachel. I was merely sizing the girl up for which size of slushy cup we should use to dunk over her big head."

Santana looked bored and leaned against Brittney, "Uh-huh."

"Well sizing and staring are pretty much the same thing Q," Brittney chirped, crunching again, "I mean it must take you a while to size people up, because you were staring at her for like 10, 20 min-"

"Your getting crumbs all over the paper," Quinn shrieked, pulling it close to her bosom and casting a small grunt towards Brittney.

"Sorry Q."

They all watch her flick some pieces off of the sheet, her hands graze over it frigidly, almost afraid of getting burnt if she touched it. Her eyes were focused on her work, trying to straighten the paper out. Taking absolute, and almost obsessive care with the letter in her hands.

"So when are we going to deliver this thing?" Puck broke the silence, "I'm suddenly remembering why I don't like to sit with girls during lunch."

"We'll deliver it soon, when the moment's just right," Quinn smirked playfully, reading the paper again. "It's genius."

"So who's going to bring the camera?" Puck muttered, smiling greedily.

"Your job," Quinn directed, "Santana you're look out, Brittney-"

"Will bring snacks!" She yelled, crackers crackling in her grip and flying from her mouth. Puck was sure some cracker fell in his Mohawk, and shuddered, because of course it lands in the only strip of hair he has on his damn head.

"What about you Q?" Santana urged, raising an eyebrow, "You just going to sit back and relax?"

"No way," She grinned, "I'll have the best job of all."

And then Puck is chuckling, shaking his head.

"Well maybe I don't _want_ to be look out," Santana grunted, raising her voice a bit, "Maybe I want to have the best part."

"Oh please," Quinn cut in, "You get to _watch_ it happen. That's the same as making it happen."

"Whatever."

And then Quinn was up, scaling out of the lunch room and through the exit. Not a single goodbye uttered. Which wasn't too shocking. Usually she just left rooms without giving a glance or even a little wave.

It almost seemed like she was doing things for selfish reasons, personal reasons. She talks to you and then leaves you, saying goodbye will never gain her anything, so she disregards any sort of manners that her parents may of taught her. Everyone knew Quinn was like this, though calm and relaxed, she was disrespectful. She was greedy and a bit rude. But hid it behind a beautiful scowl or an even more beautiful grin.

When Puck made sure she was gone he turned to the two cherrios before him, hushed to a whisper, "I totally half assed that letter too. I don't even know why she likes it so much."

"Maybe it isn't the actual letter she likes, but the idea of having to send it to Berry." Brittney said easily.

And then Puck didn't have any more to say, so he just watched Brittney choke on some more crackers while Santana jumped in for SPR.

* * *

"Where's Puck?" Brittney asked, clutching onto Santana tightly, "Did he get lost too?"

"No B," Quinn muttered, turning to face the girl, "That only seems to happen with you."

"Watch it Fabray," Santana warned, trudging behind her.

All three girls strolled down the hall, the unholy trinity, usually at cheerleading practice, decided to take a little break. Snickering bashfully, they all tricked Sue and snuck out without a word. And now they proceeded to walk the ghostly quiet halls of McKinley high. Not a student in sight. Not a locker opened. Not a single word was said until-

"So _where is_ Puck?" Santana muttered, walking up to Quinn's side, with Brittney at her heels.

"Practice." She quipped, stopping abruptly.

They simultaneously looked over at a specific locker, grinning madly. Quinn folded the paper, almost perfectly, with precision. And Santana watched, smirking fondly, as the blond slapped the paper against the lockers in order to fold it easier. She was so concentrated that a little bead of sweat sank down her neck, and she was biting her lip so hard it was turning white.

"Wow Q, with all that focus put in folding a _fucking piece of paper_ , you'd think you actually meant all the shit written on it."

And the blond squeezed her eyes, realizing how insane she probably seemed, "I don't want any mistakes." She goes back to folding it again, making sure the crease isn't interfering with any-

"Can you just slip the letter inside her locker already?" The Latina growled, "I hate the halls when they're quiet."

"Does it give you the creeps S?" Quinn mocked, "Going to soil yourself?"

"Oh please. At least I'm not sweating profusely over paper crease panic."

Quinn turned around, opened her mouth, but watched as Brittney snatched the paper from her hand, "I think we should read it one more time," she smiled, "Just in case we missed something."

All girls shrugged and huddled close, eyes scanning and searching deeper. Every word was meticulously and almost frigidly applied. But still maintaining a stream of manliness. It was perfect. Not too many beautiful words, but still enough sexy tone poured in to make it just a bit too scandalous and revealing. It wasn't necessarily smutty, but it certainly reeked of teenage hormones. And it was classy. Wither the girls wanted to admit it or not, Puck had a way with words.

"She wont be able to resist this," Santana snickered, "She'll be creaming her panties by the time she's done reading."

"It says Rachel's eye's are hazel. That's not true," Quinn cut in and glanced at both girls, giving her confused and interested looks. "We want this letter to be professional, am I right?"

Brittney is the first to nod, and the last. "Let's say her eyes are blue."

"No her eyes are brown, dark brown," Quinn muttered, "This is awful, how did I bypass that? I've read this letter like 7 times."

"Pathetic," Santana said, grabbing the note, folding it sloppily, and slipping it in Rachel's locker. All the while Quinn stood stiff as a statue, glaring at the ceiling. "Can we go to Breadstix now?"

Brittney beamed, "Let's go."

"You didn't even fold it _right_ ," Quinn growled, "And the eyes…"

" _It doesn't matter Q_. Christ's sakes, even if it's a love letter from Coach Sylvester she's still going to cream her panties. So let's go. _I wants to gets my breadsticks ons_."

Quinn glanced at the locker for a moment. Deliberately blocking out the sight of her friends kissing, she wondered if they thought she saw them. And then she wondered if they even cared.

* * *

"This is perfect." Quinn said proudly, "We can see everything from over here."

Santana hopped down from the trunk of her car, looking off at the carnival brightly in the distance. The ferries wheel looked beautiful with a sunset backdrop, and for a second or two everyone felt a bit jealous that they couldn't go in and play.

"I didn't think we'd get any parking close enough." Santana said with a bit of some shock behind her voice.

Brittney was currently digging through the front seat. Brushing her head back with a hand and blowing out a sigh.

"We're close enough to see the bench right?" Quinn was crouched low to the ground, her eyes searching and checking wildly. "We can see her right?"

"Can you relax?"

"Get the camera, set it up."

Puck heaved a little huff and dug through the back, before perking up and watching Brittney shuffle through the front, "B what are you doing?"

She doesn't respond to him directly, "Santana where are my panties? I know I left them in here last-"

"Talk about it later Brittney!" Santana hollered, looking away and pretending to search for Rachel in order to hide her blush. Quinn saw it immediately and decided to not push the subject any further.

"Do you see her?" Quinn muttered, "Is the camera ready?"

Puck nodded tiredly, "It's all set up," He put the machinery to his eye and clicked record, glancing off at the bench in the distance, but then moving it to focus on Santana's boobs.

"Keep the camera on the prize Puckerman," The girl mumbled, glaring.

"Oh I am _, trust me_."

Brittney finally hopped out of the car, slamming the door tightly and carrying an apple in her hand, "I brought snacks." And then took a bite greedily. "For me."

Everyone was a bit too busy to even care, but Santana gave the girl a little smile and then looked back at the bench-

"She's here!"

Quinn practically flung herself to where Santana was standing, grabbing her and forcing her behind the car. She was panting heavily, sweating, and looked absolutely not like Quinn Fabray, but maybe like Lucy Fabray, and it almost made Santana laugh.

"Can you not push me?" Santana quipped.

"I didn't want her seeing you."

"So are we going to do this thing?" Puck muttered while his camera zooms in on Rachel. Who was currently looking around and checking the letter in her hands by a bench just outside of the carnival entrance. "Got the slush?"

Quinn snapped her fingers and Brittney was already handing her a cup full of cherry flavored drink. " _Look at her_ -," She hissed, "Waiting for her secret admirer to confess his _undying_ love for her."

Santana gave Quinn a little glance. A strange sort of…worry in her eyes.

"She's probably all excited _._ She's all dressed up too. Poor thing."

"She looks pretty." Brittney added.

Quinn grinned madly, "She wont be after _I'm_ done with her." She took a deep breath, "She won't see it coming. She'll be completely humiliated, and then Puck- Puck you come out with the camera."

"She's might just die from embarrassment," Puck hushed dully.

"Love letter my ass."

"Best part is, she actually thinks someone is coming for her. Like anyone in the _right mind_ would actually find Rachel Berry attractive enough to confront her-" Quinn hissed out, smiling. Gripping the cup tightly in her grip, feeling the cool chill spring all the way through her veins and into her toes.

"Go get her Q." Santana whispered quickly, patting her back.

The blond nodded, stood on both feet and walked towards Rachel with such grace that she was practically floating on air. Her feet moved underneath her quickly, one step at a time. Her hand was positioned just right to give the perfect slushy facial. And her uniform fit her perfectly. Her hair was up, tied tightly behind her. And her face just screamed indifference, or maybe discrimination.

She could feel the power. It was coursing through her. Making her vision blur and her smile bigger and her skin itchy and knees wobbly. Quinn could barely feel her heart beating wildly in her chest. She was going to do it.

 _She was going to do it._

She was going to embarrass _Rachel fucking Berry_ on tape.

Rachel hadn't spotted her yet. But when Quinn got a closer look at the small girl, shoulders up to her ears, fists clutching the letter tightly to her chest, eyes hopefully staring off towards the other side of the parking lot, Quinn suddenly felt incredibly… _bad?_

 _No_.

It wasn't like her to feel _guilt_.

She was _Quinn Fabray_ , h _ead Cherrio_ , a girl who used revenge to her advantage. A girl who needed to put Rachel in her place. A girl who was just like her sister, a sister who was also a Cherrio, who also put girls like Rachel in their place. It seemed fitting. It seemed _right_.

But then her gut was clenching, and her brow was perspiring and the closer she got the more she wanted to see what Rachel looked like in the front. She wanted to see how pretty Rachel was for her "date". How much the brunette actually tried. Tried for the secret admirer in the letter, almost, as if, she was trying for Quinn.

That very thought sent both feet to a stand still.

The wobbly feet, the ache in her stomach, the sweat, the tearful eyes, the itchy skin, the blush that was spreading from the tips of her ears to the edge of her toes - Quinn _was not having any of this._

And then she took an immediate sip of the slusht, she gulped the whole thing down because it was suddenly way too hot. She was already way too exhausted from the walking.

Practically choking herself with the red syrupy slush Quinn let out a slight noise. Rachel turned suddenly at the noise of gagging and widened her eyes in fear, mixed with the unnoticeable expression of confusion.

"Quinn?"

The cherrio, coughed into the cup, embarrassed. She took a big gulp, and stepped back from the drink, now pouring down her chin and dripping on the pavement. The cup was practically sopping as well, and red splatters spotted her white shoes everywhere.

She looked up suddenly, her head jutting out, her butt bent back, but her hazel eyes never straying from the girl in front of her.

"Did you-"

"Is my face red?" She asked quickly, "Do you have a tissue?"

And Rachel nodded stiffly, digging into her purse. The whole time she did this Quinn looked at the brunette's outfit. And it looked horrible. It was confusing and it wasn't dressy, but you could tell that Rachel probably thought it was fancy. And it was actually embarrassing, more embarrassing than choking on cherry slushy, to see Rachel wearing such a weird combination of clothing.

The brunette handed the tissue without a word, and Quinn took it forcefully, wiping her face with it, and knowing her make-up was probably coming off.

She wouldn't dare turn around though. She could already hear Santana laughing and she could feel Puck angry, angry that she just ruined their prank and Brittney searching in the front of her car for her panties. God, her cheeks were red with embarrassment or was that just slushy…

Rachel looked at her shoes, and then peered up shyly, "Did you-"

"Your clothes are more awful then usual."

The girl grimaced, "I'm here for a date and- Well I think It's perfect."

"Obviously."

And both girls stood there, quiet desperation seeping in, awkwardness just clawing restlessly at the service of conversation. The carnival echoed, screaming could be heard, laughter (probably from Santana) chided in the horizon. And Quinn could practically see it now, she could just see it from Puck's camera: It zooms in on a cherrio, with red tinting her cheeks and mouth, a dirty used napkin in hand, eyes locking with Rachel Berry, who looked like she should be _working_ at the carnival as a clown, shyly glancing up and down and all around.

"Did you send this letter?" Rachel finally rasped out, "Is this a prank? Because if it is-," Her lips quivered, gulping the sadness down, "Because if it is, it's not funny. It's really-"

Quinn didn't like that. And Quinn Fabray doesn't like a lot of things.

She likes God, she likes Finn and she hates Rachel. But she most certainly does not like being cliché. Or known. A trope. A goddamn statistic. She was too prideful, too full of an overbearing ego to say the truth. To tell the truth. To just let it all out and let it all go and finally for once in her life _relax_ around Rachel Berry.

So she went on to plan B.

"Oh please Rachel," Quinn dryly spat out, "Don't act like you know me so well."

"So then-," The girl looked at the letter briefly, "So then it isn't yours?"

Quinn mumbled, "It _is_ mine."

"So then it's a prank?"

"No." Quinn choked out, twisting her head to the side, squeezed her eyes shut, almost reprimanding herself. She cursed herself quietly and practically punched herself in the face.

 _Fucking idiot. Fucking moron. Why can't you just-_

Rachel, a bit confused by Quinn's weird movements shifted in her spot, "So you wrote this letter?"

"I sent it to you."

"So everything in this-," Rachel quickly scanned the sheet, "Everything in here is true?"

Quinn stiffly nodded. Almost on command.

"Well can I make some grammatical errors?"

Quinn looked up from her strange, twisted stance, "You're kidding."

"Well here, on the second paragraph, it's spelled _exquisite,"_ She pointed to the paper, held out before Quinn, who took a slow step forwards to get a better look. "Also about my eyes-"

"Oh I know- I know they're dark brown." Quinn waved off with disinterest, she gripped the paper, "Was it folded nice enough?" She questioned without thought.

Rachel grinned a bit, "It wasn't folded perfectly, but after realizing all the creases applied to the letter, I knew you worked hard on folding it perfectly."

Quinn just nodded dumbly, not really listening, "I like things neat." She merely said.

"Me too."

"Do I have any more slushy on my face?" She asked boldly, touching her chin lightly.

She didn't. But her chin and lips were stained red with syrup. "No." Rachel replied with a small smile.

Quinn knew she was lying, but nodded absentmindedly before searching the letter again.

"Are we here to go to the carnival?" Rachel mumbled after a few moments, "Because it's getting dark and I want some popcorn."

The cherrio looked up, suddenly realizing what she was getting herself into. It was a bit outstanding that she came this far. And she wondered why Rachel wasn't freaking out. And then she wondered why she wasn't really freaking out either.

The prank didn't work out. After _months_ of planning.

And she was thinking that maybe Rachel could buy her some food. It was a win-win right?

"Right." She said quickly, shoving the letter in her pocket before Rachel finally moved from her spot and gripped her wrist.

The anger in the blonde's eyes couldn't be mistaken, so Rachel gave a scared, timid look, "I want to keep it."

"The letter?"

Rachel nodded fiercely, "It's the first love letter I ever got. It's special."

Quinn just nodded slowly, not really understanding why it was so important. She didn't even write the damn thing. But Rachel was never going to know that. Rachel wasn't going to know _anything_. No one should know what was happening. This should be a secret. The biggest secret in the world.

"What do you want to do first?" Quinn muttered, handing the paper to Rachel who took it quickly, folded it, and slipped it in her purse.

"Clean your face." Rachel replied fondly, her hand still on Quinn's wrist. She pulled her along, running eagerly towards the entrance of the Carnival that reflected lights onto the ground and sky. It was magical in a way, the ferris wheel shining brightly through the darkening sky, the carousel spinning rapidly, and people crowding around sections and areas, talking rapidly and happily. Quinn almost felt excited.

Almost.

* * *

"Oh my fucking god," Puck muttered into his hands, palms pressed into his eyes, "This is not happening."

Santana was laughing, roaring, on the hood of her car, head pressed firmly into the metal surface. She hadn't stopped laughing yet, and it had been about 10 minutes. She began chuckling when Quinn practically poured the drink on her face, but she started bawling from laughter when Rachel grabbed Quinn's hand and led her into the carnival.

"This was not part of the plan," Puck muttered to no one. He casted a angry glare to Santana, "Will you shut up?"

She wiped her eyes, chuckling softly now, shaking her head, "Did you see the look on Q's face?" She slammed her fists down onto the hood, laughing towards the metal again, eyes squeezed tightly.

"Maybe Q is planning some sort of master evil plan part 2?" Brittney added, snacking on her apple still.

Santana rocked into the car, running over to the camera, "Let's watch it again."

Puck pulled the device away, "No way."

"Come on! I want to laugh some more!" Santana cried out, trying to reach. "I want to see the zoom in on Quinn's _red fucking face_."

"We should follow them," the boy muttered, "Maybe Brittney is right."

Santana pushed back with a huff, shuffling slightly she gave a little nod to the blond, "Fine. We might just get more embarrassing shots of Q. Our so called _Queen_." And she laughed loudly again, walking beside Brittney with an arm wrapped around her shoulder.

Puck grunted lowly, checking to see if he had any battery left. Trudging behind the girls he prayed that maybe he would get a kiss on tape. He highly doubted it though.

* * *

"I think this is the first time and last time I'm ever going to wash slushy off your face." Rachel remarked, her voice a bit distant due to her concentration.

Quinn felt the wet napkin spread along the corners of her lips, then loop under her chin. It was touched with some more water from the bottle and then applied to her lips gently. It felt incredibly calming. And she found her eyes sagging a bit, her eyelids low, head bobbing too.

"This is probably the _only_ time you're going to wash slushy off my face." Quinn said smartly.

"I wonder why?" Rachel smirked, and Quinn saw some fire in those eyes. Was she trying to flirt?

"Well I usually use the slushies' for _other things_." She locked eyes with brown, trying to figure out what was happening, and why Rachel was still poking her lips with a napkin when she knew the red was completely off by now. She didn't pull back.

"Don't you mean _other people_?"

"You could say that."

"How about for drinking?"

"Never."

Rachel gapped a bit, pulling the napkin back and throwing it in the trash beside them, "You never drank a slushy?"

"Obviously. Did you see how I just poured it all over myself? I don't even know how to drink it _properly_."

The brunette nodded a bit, "You're like a toddler."

Quinn rolled her eyes, pulling her attention somewhere other than the girl sitting next to her, "Want to go to eat?"

"Hold on," Rachel said softly, getting another napkin and dapping Quinn's cheek a bit. This time, it felt so much more…intimate. Her eyes were focused on Quinn's hazel, wide and unforgiving. They locked intense gazes before, but never like this. The warm cloth slid down her cheek lightly, and she wore she could feel the skin of Rachel's finger seep through. "Missed a spot." She hushed, throwing that napkin away too.

"Right." Quinn replied hoarsely, trying to not sound so husky. But it just slipped out, her obvious arousal was incredibly endearing, incredibly distracting. Embarrassing really. Shocking. Stunning. Disgusting. _Amazing._

Because this was _Rachel Berry._

The girl Quinn was going to pour a slushy on not 30 minutes ago. But instead poured it on herself.

"So how did you like the taste of cherry slushy?" Rachel said, almost proudly.

"I probably wont like it was much as nachos." Quinn replied, walking towards the stand. Her hand found Rachel's quickly, pulling her behind.

* * *

"They're eating now."

"I feel like I'm filming a teen lesbian documentary."

Puck smirked, "I'm filming the two teen lesbians. Rare creatures they are. It must be feeding time."

"What are they eating?" Brittney played along.

"It seems to be nachos. They're delightfully sharing nachos- Oh! Did you see that?"

Santana rolled her eyes, "How could I not see that? They just fed each other. It's disgustingly adorable."

"But San we feed each other all the time."

The girl smirked back, "Some ways more than one."

Puck looked at both girls with the camera still on his eye, "Can I tape you both next? I need some more information on mating seasons-"

"Shit they're leaving!"

"After them!"

"They're on the move. I repeat. They're on the move!"

* * *

Quinn spotted her little crew not too long ago. Really, she had been leading Rachel around like crazy, her hand practically glued to the girl's wrist, merely to escape them and their watchful eyes. Or watchful cameras in this case. The brunette was pulled along happily though, she didn't really care if it felt as if her arm was going to pop out of its socket, nor did she really mind if she hadn't seen Quinn's face for about 30 minutes, due to the running.

It was just fun being there, being at a carnival, with all the lights zooming by, the noises and sounds, people walking around and some running. Rides were going off and toys were being won.

"I really like this," Was all that Rachel said. And then she was stopped, sliding between two stands, while Quinn pushed up against her.

The blond must have not heard her because her eyes didn't even look at the brunette deep in her arms. Instead they wiped around the corner, poking out into the more populated sections of the carnival. Rachel watched, with almost a shy smile, as the girl just furrowed her brows once more, checked again, and then took a deep breath in and pulled close to Rachel.

"What did you say?" They finally locked eyes. Quinn's hands still on Rachel's shoulders, their bodies inches away. Hidden in the darkness, the shadows of both stand, the lights blocked and away. It was private, secret. Rachel could barely form a damn sentence.

"I forgot," She said a bit sheepishly. Then she watched Quinn shrug and look again. Watching the cheerio was becoming the highlight of Rachel's date. Quinn's eyes fluttering, her long eyelashes catching her cheeks lightly. Those lips, bitten and wet, tongue grazing the bottom pink plum of flesh, before-

"Come on let's go."

"Wait." Rachel clutched the girl closely. She searched those confused hazel eyes, before asking, "You _do_ like me right?"

Quinn nodded absentmindedly, "Sure."

Then her hand was pulled again, they dashed out into the crowds. But the warm hand that was intertwined with Rachel's fingers wasn't allowing her to become lost, so she stayed closely behind the blond, but continued to speak, "Well good. Because I was a little skeptical at first."

They moved quickly in between two stands again, darkness covering their expressions. The brunette continued, "Because when I saw you standing there, saying that the letter was yours, well I personally thought it was a prank. And I want to apologize for that. I'm sorry for doubting you Quinn."

It was probably the first time Rachel had ever said her name without feelings of dread hidden behind it. And to be perfectly honest, Quinn Fabray didn't have a heart made of stone. She wasn't this ice Queen that everyone thought she was. Her heart was red, covered in muscles and blood, and it was pumping, fast. Especially fast in those few moments of eye contact with Rachel Berry. Her head was light, and because she was certainly alive, certainly had feelings and whatnot, Quinn felt as if no one would ever say her name like that ever again. And that scared the shit out of her.

And then the guilt set in.

If she told Rachel the truth, then she would never hear her name, usually full of fear, finally full of _happiness._

"Want to play a game?"

Rachel grinned, from her sheepish smile, and nodded. "I would love to. I've never played a carnival game before."

"Have you ever been to a carnival at all?"

Rachel shook her head.

Quinn practically bit her lip at the girl's confession. Leading her quickly to a stand, and looking around for any Mohawk-ed boys with a camera and an angry Latina usually holding a lost and confused Blonde's hand, Quinn taught Rachel how to play her first carny game. She stuck her fingers out and pointed and taught. All the while, Rachel watched and nodded and smiled and focused, and it was probably the widest smile she'd ever seen the girl give and it made her smile too because, damn it, she was making Rachel smile _that_ smile.

The girl clutched the gun, and Quinn bent behind her slightly to teach her how to hold it.

And then it happened. This almost violent jolt of electricity or excitement that grabbed her heart and her throat, and _apparently_ her lungs because she could barely _breath_ , and it all threw Quinn Fabray for an absolute loop.

She felt Rachel's ass in her crotch, the girl's small frame under her chest, and for fucks sakes the girl's shampoo was heavenly.

"What kind of shampoo is that?"

"Strawberry Kiwi," Rachel said smartly, "Helps so you don't get lice."

God, Rachel Berry just talked about lice and Quinn had never heard anything sexier in her life. Her arms shook, as she placed both of Rachel's hands on the watergun. And her breathing was more rapid now, husky. Quinn's voice practically dripped sex, and her eyes were lidded and her pupils were dilated. And she thought for a second, that not seeing Rachel's face, made the whole thing even more exciting.

And that's when Quinn realized she was as gay as Santana during one of Brittney's annual summer pool party extravaganzas. As simple and as clean as that.

The buzzer went off, and Quinn removed herself from Rachel's ear and practically screamed for the girl to win.

After water splashed and people screamed and the buzzer went off once again, a toy was handed to someone else. Rachel was still jumping up and down, screaming, she hugged Quinn excitingly and smiled.

The blond _felt_ her blush. She _actually felt it_.

"We're getting you a damn stuffed animal," Quinn growled, pushing a boy out of the way in order to grab a watergun.

And Rachel stood there, pre excitement chilling her very core. She clasped her hands together and leaned by Quinn, their arms brushing slightly. The buzzer went off once more. Quinn couldn't even concentrate, _Rachel was touching her arm. And it felt amazing._

* * *

"There they are!"

Santana slurped on her drink, "How can you-"

"When did Rachel turn into a huge stuffed bear?" Brittney asked, leaning over to see clearer. She was pulled back by Santana, and their hands met.

"That's not Rachel, Britts."

"An update on our two little cuties," Puck hushed close to the camera, still playing, "Quinn must have bought Rachel a giant bear. That is the lesbian language for-"

"Okay give me the camera," Santana snapped, grabbing the machinery from the boy's hand. She zoomed in on Rachel and Quinn, walking aimlessly, hands clasped tightly.

"Do you guys still think this is a part 2?" Brittney questioned.

"No." They both replied, following eagerly behind.

* * *

"Okay," Quinn pulled Rachel into line, "Now the Ferris Wheel is a _must_."

She stared at the giant contraption, covered with lights. Flashing and beaming into the night. It was magical. And then she saw the thing stop. "I don't think so."

"It's fun, come on." She held he girl's hand tightly, "If we're lucky we might get stuck at the top."

"More like unlucky." Rachel hushed.

Then her eyes were pulled up to hazel. The cherrio held this warm smile, bright and cheerful, "Then we could see all of Lima."

"Again, more like unlucky."

Quinn laughed. Genuinely laughed. And it warmed the brunette's heart dearly. Lovely. Slowly and almost too quickly at once.

The wheel was spinning again. But it's not like Rachel even noticed it. Her eyes were nowhere near the large machine. Instead she continued to gaze at the blond, who was curiously beaming at the wheel. Her eyes wide with excitement, that smile, full of teeth. It was incredibly endearing when her hand was grasped again. And it was even more endearing when a thumb was rubbed along the edge.

"Is this going to continue when we get back to school?" Rachel thought aloud.

And Quinn's smile bent to a frown. Her hand retracted back into her letterman jacket. And her eyes pulled away, looking somewhere off into the distance. She was pulled back into reality, almost painfully.

She was sure Puck and Santana were not too far behind. Maybe Quinn could make a quick exit through the-

"I'm sorry," Rachel whispered, "I didn't mean to ask something so important so out of the blue."

"It's fine." Quinn's jaw was sharp and stiff. She was mad. Or maybe thinking too hard.

"Okay," Rachel said, looking back at the wheel that didn't seem as bright or as shiny anymore.

Quinn turned a bit, a little smile on her lips, "I hope we get stuck on the top."

Rachel just nodded back, "I feel like we already are."

"They're on the wheel now."

"Good tactic Q."

"They're so going to kiss."

Santana nodded fiercely, snapping her fingers, "When they step out, get the camera ready."

Puck just grinned.

It was getting higher and higher. And when you're looking down from the wheel, the little compartments attached to it seem so much bigger.

Well they weren't.

Because both knees were touching, bare. Stiff. Red tinted knees poked and prodded and tried desperately to find room of their own.

But it was futile. So the whole ride up was just spent in absolute silence, while sexual tension took up most of both girl's words and feelings. For a few brief seconds, their eyes met, and it was probably the strangest feeling Quinn felt in a while. Stranger than letting Finn grind on her.

What was she going to tell Finn?

She gulped. Really hoping that they weren't going to stop at the top-

"Quinn look!" Rachel hollered, pulling close to the window. And what do you know, they were at the top, stuck and frozen. "It's beautiful. You really can see all of Lima."

Quinn smiled, leaned in, so close that her lips practically grazed Rachel's ear, and spoke softly, "Feel unlucky?"

The brunette didn't turn, but she grinned excitingly, her hands on the window, stretched out.

"The complete opposite." She hushed out, and then turned to Quinn, who wore this embarrassed and, well to be blunt, horny expression on her face. Cheeks red, eyes heavy, pupils dilated. She looked exactly how Rachel felt. So husky and deep, like being in water. Water that poured into your lungs and heart. It felt so incredibly good, that they couldn't look away from each other.

They're knees were still touching.

When Quinn felt Rachel up from behind at the stand, they were also touching then too.

But this felt so much more different. So, like any other 16 year old, virginal girl would do. She dodged.

"This is a date full of firsts." Rachel rasped out, ducking her eyes to her lap.

"Yeah?" Oh god, Quinn's voice was quiet, hoarse. Filled to the brim with absolute desire and just plan, almost primal, _want._ What was wrong with her? This was Rachel for fucks sakes.

"Yeah. I mean, you drank a slushy for the first time, I'm at a carnival for the first time," She looked at her lap, "First date for me too."

The guilt again. Absolute guilt.

Quinn felt her insides melt. Her damn heart sank into her stomach. Nausea hit deliberately after that. Then the sweating.

It was her first date.

Rachel's first fucking date.

What would she tell her kids? What would Rachel tell her damn kids when she's older? Quinn could see it again: _Now a tony winner, sitting on her husband's lap, who smokes a pipe elegantly, Rachel would call over her beautiful little Jewish babies. They would hobble into the living room, sets of two, and sit in front of the couch and smile that Berry smile and listen._

 _They would ask: What was your first date like mama?_

 _And she would say: It was with my high school nemesis who tricked me into thinking the date was real and then told me at the last minute that it was all just a lie. I wasted my entire life away on a false love, which led me into a terrible depression. I sang sad music, became an actress, did drugs and almost died! All because of Quinn Fabray._

 _And then Rachel would smile._

But then a brilliant idea came into play. If Rachel never actually _finished_ the date, then it wouldn't be considered a date. Correct?

"I have to tell you something," Quinn barked out, her eyes wide. When did the ride start moving again? Why couldn't she meet Rachel's gaze?

Rachel swallowed, nodded and leaned in. Their knees kept touching. Why was this box so damn small?

"And I know- Well it's important I tell you this now. Because it really needs to be said." She swallowed a lump in her throat.

"You can tell me anything Quinn."

She ever so desperately wanted her name to be called like that again. She didn't know who would ever say her name like that next, with such care and deliberant love. God, she wanted this to last, she didn't want this to fade. Why couldn't they live in the carnival and just have a forever date?

They could hold hands and play games and ride things and maybe even hug. And maybe even _kiss._ The rest of the world didn't exist here in their little box. Nothing mattered. Not lima. Not school. Not roles. It was all so simple now, so suddenly. It was all so easy.

But life is hard.

"It was a prank." Quinn said simply. Her head held high, but the sweat gliding down her back was incredibly distracting.

Rachel's smile remained. But faltered, just slightly.

"This date was a prank." She spoke louder.

And then the expression, the expression she was waiting for since the very beginning of her day, lay on Rachel's face.

It screamed and it wailed, but only remained in one sickening expression.

 _You fucking snake._

The tears came fast, and it was sort of fascinating in a way, to see eyes grow so wet in only a matter of seconds. At first, they glassed over, and then with more blinking, came the red swollen eyelids, and then the eyelashes almost grew longer, more fragile. The colors of the eyes pop dramatically. The tears must magnify them.

"I knew they were dark brown," Was all that Quinn could whisper in absolute astonishment.

And then the first tear came out.

It slithered down Rachel's cheek and was gone. Rachel, entirely, was gone. She flew out of the cart and Quinn felt nothing but fear. Thinking the brunette jumped out from the highest point of the ferris wheel, she checked to see if they were on land. And gave a gasp of relief when the conductor was telling her to climb out.

She couldn't hear him though. She could barley see past the tears in her own damn eyes. And she wondered if her eyes looked green or maybe hazel. And she wondered why she wasn't running after Rachel. And she wondered why her knees were suddenly so cold.

"Was that Rachel?"

Santana blinked furiously, "For a midget she sure can run fast."

All of the sudden Quinn was before them. Eyes dry. Hair perfect. Stare icy. And glare cold. Her hand rested on her hips and her back was straighter than a board. She turned to face them all. "Got it on camera?" She remarked smartly.

"I told you it was a part 2!" Brittney hollered, excitingly.

"Wow Q," Sanatan rubbed her forehead, "You really threw me for a loop. You could be an actress one day."

"Yeah Q. Like the way you both stared into each other's eyes a lot."

"So realistic." Puck added.

"And when you held her hand like ninety percent of the time-"

"Genius."

Puck grinned excitingly. The camera zoomed a bit on Quinn, who wore the same stone cold expression. Though her eyes seemed a bit distant, she was certainly still a bit active, as she focused on every person talking.

"So Q," Puck muttered, "I think we got it all."

The girl turned to face him and his camera.

"Have anything to say for the viewers?" Santana urged, bumping her shoulder lightly.

The camera zoomed close and then Quinn Fabray, top cherrio, perfect Christian, jack of all trades, liar, bully, raised her chin, put on her most charming smile and said thickly, "I want to go home."

So they sent her home with rewarding pats on her back and smiles all around. Quinn couldn't help but smile back. And she couldn't help but laugh back. And when they finally dropped her off at her house, and when she finally ran into her room, then she allowed herself to remember the whole night.

And remember she did.

The light touches. The smiles. The laughs.

The love.

It was so horribly amazing. It was affecting her like a disease. Rachel Berry was crawling through her veins, her blood, her brain. It was a damn virus.

So she lay in her bed and stared at her ceiling.

She didn't cry. She didn't even smile.

It was all sort of neutral ground. Almost as if, the whole night was just some sort of dream. As if it never even happened. Like she was sleeping the whole time and just woke up a few hours ago.

That could have possibly been the truth. But the memories were so real, they were engrained in her brain. And her fingers, they smelt like Rachel. And her eyes, they could see her. They could feel her staring at her. They could fucking breath her in.

And Quinn didn't sleep much that night. So she wrote a letter.

* * *

Between 5th and 6th period, Quinn had free time. Free time to do whatever she wanted however she wanted to do it, and no one could tell her otherwise. She was Quinn Fabray, and god damn it, she _like liked_ Rachel Berry, so everyone could just fuck off.

She checked and prayed that the hallway was clear. Seeing as everyone was either in class or at practice, she sneaked by Puck's locker and inserted the combination expertly.

It didn't take much to get the code out of him. Actually it didn't take an ounce of effort. She merely just battered her eyelashes, pulled a famous smile, and asked pleasantly, "Puck can I have your locker combo?"

And presto the locker was open. She coughed a bit at the smell but continued searching desperately for-

She grabbed the camera, held it in her hand and slipped the memory out quickly. Cracking the disk in half and throwing it away, she walked to phase two of her plan. She didn't even close Puck's locker.

"What are you doing?" Santana questioned loudly. And then she saw Quinn scowling at her, hands behind her back, eyes cold and unforgiving and fingers holding a letter.

"I'm going to class."

Santana nodded slowly, "Why weren't you at practice?"

"I wasn't feeling well."

" _You_ weren't feeling well?" Santana walked over calmly, head high, "Careful, Q, if anyone on the team hears that the captain has been slacking they will all come crawling to replace you in a second."

Quinn didn't budge an inch, "Who could possibly replace me?"

Santana smiled.

It was all the evidence she needed.

"You?"

"Of course," the Latina suggested, "I'm like a hotter, sassier, version of you."

Quinn just scoffed, ignoring the girl completely. She was still, as Santana was inches away, her eyes scanning like a hawk. If Quinn turned around just an inch, Santana would see what was hiding behind the blonde's back-

"So why did you _really_ skip practice?"

Quinn didn't answer. She only shook her head, practically trapped. She couldn't walk away, but she couldn't stay either.

"Are you hiding something Q?"

"No."

"Got a bun in the oven or something? You throwing up?"

"Drop it Santana."

"So it wasn't just because you were sick."

Quinn wouldn't give in, she glared at the girl before her, practically shooting daggers. "I was sick."

"I checked the nurses office and you weren't there."

"I was in the bathroom."

"What were you doing in the bathroom?"

"Why do you care so much?"

"Just want to see if your not ditching the team or anything."

Santana was furiously suspicious now. Her nostrils flared, her eyes lit up, it was like a chase. And Santana always loved the chase. Quinn didn't want any part of the chase. She wanted to run away from the chase. She was suddenly the prey for once. She hated it.

Quinn scoffed, "I don't have time for this."

"What's behind your back?" Santana said confidently.

"Homework."

"Were you doing it in the bathroom too?" Santana smiled, "Anything else I should know about you and bathrooms?"

"Says the girl always having sex in one."

It didn't faze her. Not one bit. Santana was on a role now. She was gone. She was in fucking space and she was never coming down. Not until Quinn was coming down with her.

"Show it to me."

"My homework?"

"Cut the bullshit, Quinn." Santana reached behind the girl but flew forwards when Quinn's fast feet dodged backwards. "Give it to me!"

Quinn held the letter close to her chest. She looked her in the eyes. "No."

"Quinn-"

"Hey."

They both turned to see Brittney, holding her backpack and giving them blank smiles. Then the bell rang. And the classroom doors swung open. One by one, cracking against the walls. Soon enough people poured into the hallways like sand. Quinn decided this was her getaway, this was her chase, so she, as smoothly and as coolly as possible, speed walked away.

Santana ran behind her, screaming her head off before crowds of teenagers swarmed over her. And Quinn dodged and swerved as skillfully as possible, still holding that bitch furrow as she sped away from Santana's eyes and picky fingers. She skipped over fallen papers and backpacks, ducked under lockers and legs.

Just as Quinn was about to make it out the front poor Puck came out from nowhere and threw Quinn off course. He grabbed her, "That was my mom's SD card! Why did you break it?"

Quinn shot back, "Get off of me!"

She pushed him back with all her might. But he wouldn't budge. At her last struggling shove the letter from her fingers slid onto the floor.

It's as if time stopped. She reached out to grab it but Puck picked it up instead.

Santana had emerged too, right on time, Brittney right behind her.

"Jeez Quinn you walk fast! We could barley keep up with you." Brittney said gasping for breath.

"That was the point." Santana mumbled.

"Puck, give me the letter." Quinn said furiously, desperately _and fearfully_. Like her life depended on it. And it did. That letter had her whole life in it. That letter, tinted pink, with a single lone black heart in the corner, was her entire existence, in the crusty hands of Noah Puckerman.

"First tell me why you broke the SD chip."

"I didn't."

"You just did it so our bet could be off!" Puck announced loudly.

Quinn has completely forgotten about the bet. What was the bet even about again? Did it even matter at this point? "I'm telling you i didn't break the SD chip."

"Maybe that's what you were doing in the bathroom?" Santana said sarcastically, venomously.

Quinn realized suddenly that she was trapped. She held tight to her lies, but decided in one last hope, one last plea, to just let them all go.

"I broke the chip." She said. "I didn't want anyone seeing it."

Suddenly a few people came to spectate the scene. She was the usual center of attention. Quinn didn't like it this time around.

"It was _your_ plan. That doesn't make sense." Santana said.

"I didn't want anyone seeing it."

"Why?"

Quinn finally answered. "Because it's mean."

Santana laughed. Hard. It was a thick, annoyed laughter. "Mean?" She laughed once more, "Quinn you _are_ mean!"

Quinn was mean. She was right. Quinn knew this all along. She just didn't like thinking about it. She didn't like remembering being so mean. She didn't like acting this way. She didn't like it at all.

Rachel doesn't like mean people.

And Quinn liked Rachel.

And Santana saw it all.

She saw everything.

"You…care about her." She said. The words didn't sound right from Santana's lips. But they were there. And they were out. "You care about Rachel Berry."

Quinn was struggling to accept it. She closed her eyes tightly and tried to wake up from this nightmare.

"You actually care about-"

"I didn't want to!" Quinn said. "I didn't want to care!" Done with the conversation, she went to grab the letter from Puck's hands but Santana was just as fast and snatched it instead.

"Because you broke Puck's card. We take something from you now."

Quinn was red. Quinn was embarrassed and mad. "Take it." She said.

Acting tough was all she had left.

Santana grinned, Brittney followed closely behind her. Puck growled, "You're getting me a new card."

"Whatever." Quinn said, and slowly yet surely she was sucked up into the sea of people. Her life was over. At some point Quinn did go to a bathroom that day, only to cry.

* * *

The next day Quinn was ready for her downfall. She was ready for the letter to be photocopied and posted on every locker. She was ready for it to be on every news page in Lima. Every cellphone.

But it wasn't.

It was as if the letter had just disappeared.

She searched the hallways for Santana and Brittney, but they were gone. Even during Cherrio practice, they had made quick getaways from Quinn's obvious intrigue.

"Did you read it?"

She asked them at lunch, blushing red from head to toe. She tried to conceal it, but she just couldn't. She had fallen for a girl. For Rachel Berry. It was simple really, all it took was one date.

"No we didn't read it." Santana said, taking a sip from her drink, she gave a glance at Brittney.

"We gave it to Rachel and said it was from you."

Quinn was silent as the blush burned brighter than ever before.

"You what?" She voiced out uncomfortably. "Say that again?"

"We gave it to Rachel ourselves."

And then Quinn was gone, running out of the lunch room so fast she felt like she was flying. Zooming past her locker, then Rachel's locker. She ran across the football field. She ran in and out of classrooms, still in session. She peeked into club rooms and into the auditorium. And when all hope was lost, and a little tinny Jewish girl couldn't be found at school, Quinn then decided to run to her house.

And she ran and she sped and she kicked and she panted until finally she made it to a modern, friendly neighborhood. Until she made it to a big tall, white house. Until she rang the doorbell without a single thought in her head. And regretted it the second her finger slipped off the button.

It was too late to back out now. She was speechless when Rachel answered the door.

Quinn felt naked, bare. Suddenly realizing that Rachel must have read the letter by now, which means she must have read those very detailed intricate parts about how Quinn felt. _About it all._

"Did you read it?" Was all she could say, a bit fearfully.

"Read what?" Rachel seemed annoyed, she was hiding behind her door. "Quinn why are you here? Another prank I presume?"

She was perplexed. "You didn't-" Quinn looked at some flowers at the front of Rachel's house and had a small, mini, silent, panic attack.

Santana had tricked her.

What a _bitch._

Quinn continued, "I made you this letter. It was really important-"

"I already got _that_ letter, remember?" Rachel mumbled stiffly, cruelly. She was hugging her arms and never seemed smaller.

Quinn scrunched her eyebrows, "No a _new_ letter. I made a new letter, a _real_ letter-"

"I'm not falling for that again-"

"I had a letter."

Rachel stared at her, annoyed, cold, upset. "Well, where is it?"

"Santana has it."

"Why?"

"She stole it from me."

"Why?"

Quinn was still tired from her run, so she took a shaky breath. "Because it was only fair, I broke Puck's SD card."

Rachel didn't even blink. "Why?"

"It had something on it I didn't want people to see."

"Why-"

"Look, I wrote you a letter. I thought you read it, but you didn't-"

"I did read _that_ letter-"

"No. A _new_ letter."

"Well where is it?"

Quinn groaned, turned around and left. 16 steps later, at the edge of Rachel's lawn, she heard a faint voice from behind her.

"What was on Puck's SD card?"

Quinn turned. "Our date."

Silence. Cold bitter silence.

"It wasn't a real date." Rachel said clearly. Then she gulped stiffly. Her body shifted into this strange awkward position, where her torso didn't match her legs, and she truly didn't look like herself anymore. "It was a prank."

They looked at each other for a while. Remembering it. Trying to catch the feelings of love they felt all over again. They were still there.

"It felt real though…didn't it?" Quinn said back softly. Her smile was sad.

She stood there and counted the seconds it took for Rachel to finally just close that door.

She was at 65.

It was risky, but it was still a chance, so Quinn stepped closer.

"It felt real, right?" She says again.

"It did." Rachel says, "Very real."

"I didn't want it to be. I really didn't want it to be." She's smiling now, for some reason. "I'd do anything to take it back. In the beginning it was such a great plan, but that was before I-"

She freezes then. Realizing the words coming from her mouth. Realizing where the words were going. And Quinn Fabray froze over once again.

"Quinn?" Rachel said, stepping out of her house, leaving the door open, "Before you what?"

"Before-" She was trying so hard now. Begging for the words to come out. Begging for her lips to just mouth out what her brain was screaming in her head.

 _Tell her! Tell her! Tell her!_

Tell her what?

She stood stock still and clenched her fists and scrunched her eyes and bit her lip so hard it turned white.

Then when her mouth opened, the words in her brain didn't come out. Instead they receded deeper in the back of her head. "I'm leaving, this is-"

" _You're an idiot."_

Quinn blinked quickly, stiff as a plank. She turned slowly, once more, towards Rachel. Her shoes crunched against the pavement below. Her teeth were grit, eyes wide. "What was that?" Quinn said harshly.

Rachel just gace an exasperated sigh and begins, "I'm standing at my doorstep, in the cold, listening to you making a fool out of yourself, thinking, just hoping, you'd tell me what we both felt yesterday." She's letting off this sharp, jagged laughs, "God we're both idiots!"

"Don't call me an idio-"

"Don't talk to me again." Rachel said sternly. And she meant it, and she turned and then Quinn's heart was racing because: _who cares if she called you an idiot, you idiot, she wants to hear what you have to say! She wanted you to come to her house in the cold. She wanted you to ring her doorbell._

 _Why did she answer the door so quickly if she wasn't just standing by it?_

 _She was waiting for you._

"I want to kiss you!" Quinn shouted, her face red, eyes glassy, mouth in the strangest shape a mouth could ever make.

The shock on Rachel's face wasn't there. It didn't even arise within time. She just folded her arms. "Well I don't want to kiss you." She snarled, "You don't deserve it. For every little thing you've done to me you deserve to _not_ be kissed!"

Quinn couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You don't want to kiss me? Are you serious right now?"

"Absolutely serious!"

"You don't want to kiss me? The most popular girl in school?" She leaned in now, "Look how short my skirt is- I know you've noticed how short it is- How can you not find me attractive? How can you not want to kiss me?"

There's this silence, but its bothered by a few breaths of muttering. Both girls take the time to watch a couple with their dog pass by, whispering under their breath.

Rachel folded her arms and leaned in with a hush, "What am I some _boy_?" She whispers harshly. "Do I have to see you in a short skirt to want to kiss you?"

"Well I see you in those skirts and-"

"How long as this been going on?" Rachel moved closer, suspiciously, "Quinn are you gay?"

"Are you?"

"I don't think so-"

"Really? The way you were looking at my lips during our _date_ you seriously don't think so?"

"Well I don't- Not in the slightest. If anything maybe, I was slightly attracted to you only because Finn had broken up with my recently and-!"

"Oh please!" Quinn gasped, smiling wildly, "That's the best you got?"

Rachel was silent. For once. She held back her voice and only watched the girl before her.

"Just face the facts Rachel Berry," She said with every hope of confidence left within her. " _You like me._ "

Rachel remained silent for a moment longer. Only moving closer. "So then kiss me."

Quinn groaned and blinked angrily, "Now you want me to kiss you?" She rubbed her eyes softly, "Do you know you are insane?"

"Yes."

They both stood still, realizing the words they had spoken. There was no one on Rachel's street. No dogs, no elderly. Just two girls and the golden trees around them.

"I'm sorry it wasn't Finn who showed up." Quinn then said, without thinking of her words, or her thoughts. "I'm sorry I tricked you."

"Just kiss me." Rachel begged, laughing to herself. "To see if this feeling is real or not."

Quinn understood.

And they kissed in front of Rachel's house as soundlessly and as quietly as the leaves falling around them. They're lips meshed, softly and warmly. Hands gripped any sort of body they could hold on to, because the world was spinning. It was spinning around the sun, and they were spinning inside of a galaxy, that was spinning around other galaxies, and those galaxies moved around other galaxies and the farthest a kiss could possibly take you, took them there. And they stayed there, and they kissed for a long time, until Rachel's fathers pulled into the driveway and surprised the girls with a sort of firm echo of a cough.

Pulling away, with faces red the girls realized that the sun was slowly setting, and time has definitely passed. Also with matching sweaty palms and eyes that couldn't glance towards each other without lips being bitten, it was pretty obvious what the outcomes were.

Rachel wrote her phone number down on Quinn's pointer finger. And Quinn called her the second she got home. And the rest, as they say, was history.

* * *

"That's it?" Santana says harshly, "That's the story?"

"Yes." Quinn says, holding Rachel's hand as they walk to school. "That's the story."

"I tricked you and it actually helped you in the end?" Santana mumbles, "I'm like a modern day mother Teresa."

"Sure you are." Rachel replies.

There's a pause. Everyone knows what's coming. "Oh I see. Now that you're dating Quinn you can be all sarcastic towards me." Santana mouths off from behind the couple, slugging her bag over her shoulder harshly.

Rachel thinks for a moment and glances at Quinn, who in return just tries to conceal her laugh. "Pretty much, yeah. She responds finally. And Quinn bursts out laughing. _Really_ bursts out laughing.

Santana has never seen Quinn laugh this hard for a while and sort of happily follows behind the two girls.

They all walk in silence, no words exchanged and not even glances. The snowflakes that fall crunch under their steps, and it's peaceful once again in Lima Ohio. But once and a while Santana would glance at Rachel and Quinn's hands, to see if they were still holding on tightly.

And they were.


End file.
